Darkest Knight (19 page)

Didn’t it just figure she had to go to the bathroom? Again. After squirming for a while, she finally broke down.

“Can we stop for a couple minutes?”

He seemed distracted. “I thought we would eat while we rode. We should continue on.”

Well, that was all nice and good for him, but she had to go now. She tried thinking of deserts and airplane bathrooms, which were the worst. Anna would rather hold it than use the restroom on a plane. She always worried something would happen and she’d get sucked down the hole and ejected into thin air. It was no use.

“I’m really sorry, but I need to stop. You know, womanly things.” Heat blossomed across her chest and sweat trickled down her side. Everyone went to the bathroom. Why was she embarrassed? And yet something about telling the man you were falling for that you needed to go pee just took any possible romance out of the situation.

“My apologies. I should have looked to your needs earlier.”

He led the horses off the path. As he lifted her down, she was aware of everything about him. Up close, she could see flecks of gold in the brown of his eyes. He had amazing, thick lashes. Talk about envious. Why did men get the lush eyelashes when women had to spend a fortune over their lifetime on mascara?

He held her in front of him, her feet dangling several inches off the ground. Everything around them went still. Just when she thought he’d kiss her again, instead he dropped her to the ground.

John’s hand went to the hilt at his side. “Listen.”

What now? She knew the drill. Be quiet. Don’t make a sound. He closed his eyes, listening. After several minutes he opened his eyes. Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, he traced her lips with his thumb.

“’Tis nothing. But make haste; I do not wish to linger.”

Anna looked around for a place to conceal herself. Off to her right she saw a clump of trees and brush.

“I’m going over there.”

“Quickly, Anna.”

The man was half camel. She swore he could ride all day without stopping. How did he manage? Did it come with living life on the run? From being a warrior? Or was it just that he had the bladder of a camel?

She found a spot, lifted her dress, and squatted. She had washed out the tunic and hose and changed into the dress. As they got closer to London they’d see more people, and she didn’t want to stick out as the woman in men’s clothing.

Toilet paper. Boy, that was another thing she missed. Anna wiggled and shook a bit. Turning to her left, she caught a flash of green behind a tree.

Anna didn’t even have a chance to scream before she found herself surrounded by four men. The fifth one hauled her roughly against him, his hand covering her mouth and part of her nose. She couldn’t breathe. Anna struggled and kicked. The man squeezed her wrist so hard, she heard the bones crack.

“Shut yer mouth, before I gut ye like a pig.”

Instead of obeying, she stomped on his foot. He cursed but didn’t let her go. There was a sharp prick at the base of her ear.

“You may not be much to look at, but when I’m finished with you, no one will look at you.”

There was an odd smell in the air. Something coppery. It took her a moment to sink in. It was blood. Her blood, trickling down her neck.

Just like an afternoon thunderstorm in Florida, the skies opened up. The wind blowing and all hell broke loose. Anna watched the first man fall to the ground. What was happening? A flash caught her eye. John’s blade flashed again. He was moving so fast she could hardly see the sword. Another man screamed and went down, clutching his midsection. She saw red and had to turn away.

The rational part of her brain knew the skirmish hadn’t lasted that long, but she’d swear it had gone on forever. The sheets of rain made it hard to see. She thought there were four men on the ground. The man holding her was shaking, the knife at her throat wiggling, making her so nervous she was afraid to swallow. Afraid it would slip and she would die.

John was soaking wet, looking like some mythical warrior appearing out of the mist. The look on his face was so frightening, if she had seen the same look when she was in the tower, she would have never set him free. Seeing him like this? She could see why he had deserved his outlaw title and why so many feared him.

His voice cut across the storm, so calm she knew there must be an incredible amount of rage behind it. He did not meet her gaze, as if he could not spare an ounce of kindness while in full battle mode.

“Anna. I need you to listen to my voice.”

The knife tightened against her throat. “Don’t talk to her. Shut your mouth. We was paid well to take you. Dead or alive, my lord does not care.”

“And who might your lord be?”

“Lord Denby. He sent us after you and the wench.”

“He’ll have to wait a little longer.” He flicked his gaze to her. “Duck.”

She bit down on the hand covering her mouth. The man yelped and yanked his hand away, and Anna let all her weight fall. There was an odd-sounding thunk. When she turned around, Anna saw the knife sticking out of the man’s eye. That, combined with the four men on the ground, was more than her stomach could take. She leaned over, one hand holding her hair, the other braced on her knees as she heaved the contents of her stomach into the grass.

“Anna, run.”

A man dropped out of the tree. As John struck him down, she ran for the horses. She’d only gone a short distance when someone else grabbed her. Okra fudge! How many were there? Were they multiplying like rabbits?

The blow struck her in the face, snapping her head back. A loud ringing filled her ears. Anna tasted blood. Her lip burned. She touched a finger to it. He had split her lip. She had never raised her hand against anyone. Squinting, she aimed for the side of his face, raking her nails down as hard as she could. The man howled and slugged her in the eye. She fell back, crying out in pain.

The man sat on top of her, making it difficult to breathe.

“I’ll at least have some fun with you before I kill you.”

Anna sucked in as much breath as she could and screamed for all she was worth. “John!”

He was there in an instant, his sword flashing down to take the man’s head off, when a voice rang out.

“Put down the sword or she dies.”
 

How he managed, Anna didn’t know, but the blade came to a stop a hair away from the man’s neck and stayed there, vibrating.

A man strode forward. He motioned to his left. She counted three archers with arrows pointed at her. Another group of men rode into the clearing.

John kept the sword at the man’s neck. He stood there, anger visible on his face and throughout the lines in his body.

“Remove the blade.”

John cursed but did so. The man in charge snarled at the man sitting on top of her.

“Get off.”

The man rolled off her. She yanked her dress down and sat up. He limped away, which made her happy. And he now had three long, nasty scratches down the side of his face. Her eye and lip felt hot to the touch. A black eye. She’d never had one. And a fat lip to match.

“Get her up.”

Two men dragged her to her feet. Others shoved John to his knees. There were too many for him to fight back. One of the men grabbed his hair and yanked his head up.

“Watch.”

A sick feeling ran through Anna. They held her as the leader strode forward.

“I told you to remove your blade and you did not, swine.” The man had brown hair and a scar that made him look like he was sneering. He leaned in, his bad breath almost sending her to her knees.

“Move and you die.”

He raised a dagger, bringing it down at the back of her head. Her head jerked. When she felt the air on the back of her neck, she knew. He had cut her hair off.

The strands floated away on the wind. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw John punch the man closest to him, swearing. She didn’t know what he said, but whenever he spoke in multiple languages, she knew he was cursing.

“Take her,” the leader barked as he strode over and bonked John on the head with the hilt of his blade. He crumpled to the ground. The soldiers kicked and punched him. She saw him reaching out, trying to grab hold of something, but she couldn’t tell what. It was too hard to see from the tears streaming down her face.

Why must it always rain when he was locked in a cage? But this time John’s head rested not on hard wood but on something soft. He opened his eyes to see Anna looking down at him, concern on her face. His head rested in her lap as she ran her fingers through his hair.

The wind blew and he could see the pale skin of her neck.

“Can you ever forgive me?” he croaked out.

“For what?”

“I cannot keep you safe.” He reached up, touching the ragged ends. “Your beautiful hair. So many shades of color. Like sunlight and earth.”

She reached a hand up, touching what remained. He saw the sorrow on her face.

“I’ve always had long hair. Ever since I was a child.” She touched a finger to the strands, trying and failing to tuck it behind her ear. “I feel lighter somehow, though I bet my neck will be cold this winter.”

“’Tis my fault.”

“Why? You did nothing wrong. You saved me from those men. I hate to think what would’ve happened if I had been alone. It’s me who should be asking you for forgiveness. If we’d stayed at Blackmoor, none of this would have happened.”

“Nay. They would have come for us there.”

He touched her hair again. She looked even younger with it shorn off.

“Don’t worry. It’s only hair. It’ll grow back.”

He wanted to talk with her, but his head pained him terribly, and against his will, his eyes drifted shut.

John woke, shivering and sneezing. Anna touched his forehead and then her own. He felt awfully warm to her.

“I am well.”

“You’re grumpy.”

He made a sound in the back of his throat.

“You know men make the worst patients. They’re always whining and complaining like they’re dying.”

He cracked one eye open, scowling at her. “If you will not tend me, tell me about the snakes in Florida. To take my mind off my aching head.”

She rubbed his shoulders as she talked. The motion of the wagon and the rain falling on them lulled her into a state between wakefulness and dreams.

“In Florida there are several kinds of snakes. The poisonous ones are the cottonmouth and rattlesnakes. If they bite, you can die, but there’s an antidote. Then there are pythons and boa constrictors.” Even talking about them made Anna feel creepy crawly all over. “I hate them all. In my book the only good snake is a dead snake.”

“I have seen a snake. Most folks say they are the devil’s familiar.”

She totally agreed. “I can believe it. Pythons are not native to Florida. Someone brought them there and now they’re causing problems in the Everglades. Remember, the Everglades are the big area in Florida where very few people live. The snakes don’t have any predators there, so they have become the top predator. And they get really, really big. Bigger than people. They eat people, animals, and even alligators. Someday I wonder if they’ll take over the whole state and Florida will belong to the snakes.”

“I am glad I am not in Florida. I do not think I would like snakes.”

Something about the way he said it made her think of Dr. Seuss. The lines from
Green Eggs and Ham
ran through her mind. She kept replacing them with snakes and started to giggle hysterically.

He cracked an eye open. “What is it you find humorous?”

“I have to explain it to you some other time.” She waved a hand around.

“Something from your future world?”

“Yes. Would you like to hear a story?”

She felt his forehead again. Was he warm or was it just her imagination? He looked awful. The soldiers had beaten the snot out of him. To get her mind off worrying, she told him a story from when she was little.

“I like to hear you talk. The sound of your voice makes me feel like everything will be right in the world.”

It was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her. It was raining harder and her hair was plastered to her head. She hoped she wouldn’t catch a cold. The poor horses, traveling through the storm. She felt sorry for them. To take her mind off everything, she told him another story. This one true.